


Tattoo Trouble

by Eravalefantasy



Series: Cullen Rutherford: A Witcher in Thedas [3]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II, Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Alcohol, Explicit Language, Gen, Silly, Witcher x Dragon Age, all in good fun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-25
Updated: 2016-07-25
Packaged: 2018-07-26 17:11:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7582717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eravalefantasy/pseuds/Eravalefantasy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sent to Kirkwall to help Marion Hawke, Cullen Rutherford, Thedas' last remaining witcher finds himself in a drinking contest with the Qunari still remaining in the city. Even with a Witcher's high tolerance for drink, Cullen is about to discover one very ugly consequence.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tattoo Trouble

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SingingMom1716](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SingingMom1716/gifts).



> Based on the Witcher 2 quest: Hung Over as suggested by Singingmom1716

“Cullen! Come on, wake up!” Hawke nudged him with her foot, laughing. “Witcher superiority, pfft!” Snickers and hushed words passed around the room. “Cullen!”

He opened one eye and squinted at the harsh sunlight. “Hawke, get out . . . come back at a decent hour.” Cullen felt like a herd of Druffalo had tackled him. “On second thought, come back tomorrow.”  Cullen tried to move and found every muscle screamed in rebellion.

More laughter greeted his response. “Curly, I tried to warn you not to drink with the Qunari, but you wouldn’t listen.”

“Drinking with the . . .oh.” The layer of fuzz on his memory lifted a little more. “Did I win?” The bet had started with three mugs. Cullen’s resistance to alcohol made him the perfect match for the Arvaarad who placed the challenge before him.

Varric laughed through his response. “Curly, you won, he passed out after twelve mugs. . .but I should tell you something.”

Cullen swung his legs around and sat up scratching his head. “I don’t stink and my head’s not shaved, so sounds like a good night, right?”

 Hawke tried to hold her laughter in. “Cullen, I’m sorry but I regret to inform you that you are the proud owner,” she doubled over and cackled, “I can’t, somebody tell him, please.” She walked away laughing and shaking her head.

Merrill pushed forward. “Hello. Well, seeing as no one else wants to deliver the news. You’ve got a thing,” she pointed at him, “on your neck, just there.” Merrill smiled and stepped back. “It’s a lovely picture.” She tilted her head all the way to the right side and then all the way to the left, “but I can’t say what it’s supposed to be. A bird with a sword, I think.”

Fenris grumbled from the doorway.  “Enough all of you, you’ve got a tattoo witcher, you may have won the bet, but you earned a rather poorly drawn tattoo. Now, the rest of you, time to go.”

“A what?” Cullen couldn’t recall getting a tattoo.

Merrill’s glee only unnerved him more, “a bird with a sword, Merrill?” Cullen looked to her for confirmation. Merrill wouldn’t lie to him.  

Another groan from Fenris prompted more laughter from Hawke in the hall. “It’s a qunari female with her horns filed down, witcher. It’s not a masculine image, I’m afraid. It’s an insult.”

At Fenris’ explanation, Hawke slipped as she walked down the stairs laughing at Cullen’s ridicule at the hands of the Qunari. Fenris sighed. “I’d recommend removal. Raw lyrium dust will burn, but it might help.”

Merrill tapped Cullen on the shoulder. “The ink goes deep. The lyrium will only burn the top skin away. You’ll need a poultice to draw out the ink. “The Keeper should know the formula, we’d have to go and ask. You must ask. To be honest, it’s not something she’ll share with just anyone, witcher. You might try asking nicely.”

 _Great_ , Cullen thought, _I’m not one of her favorite people. This will go well, for sure._

Cullen’s armor wouldn’t cover the tattoo, he hoped others would not notice until he could find a solution. The young elf watched him and grinned when Cullen looked her way. “Yes, Merrill?”

“Oh, don’t mind me, witcher, I was just wondering.” She turned around to see who might still be in the room. “Maybe you wouldn’t be so grumpy if you didn’t spend so much time with him?”

Varric caught Cullen’s pained expression and led Merrill out into the hall. “Come on Daisy, let’s leave the nice witcher alone with his shitty tattoo.”

Cullen sighed and hung his head as Hawke’s cackling carried them out into the city. If the blinding light didn’t irk him enough, the constant noise drove him to distraction. Cullen turned towards the marketplace gate until he realized the group continued without him. Varric ran back to Cullen’s side. “Sorry, Curly, Aveline first. Hawke promised.”

Shaking his head, Cullen backed away. “Not a chance, I’ll never hear the end of it from her.” Cullen knew Aveline would not only lecture him on the evils of too much drink, but she’d scold him about allowing the Qunari to make a mockery of any of them. She took great pride in pointing out his shortcomings to prove humans surpassed witchers and were far more reasonable.

“Come on Curly, how bad could it be?”

_____________

Aveline ignored the group while she talked to Hawke in her office and Cullen wondered if he’d escaped the Guard Captain’s scrutiny until Hawke called to him to join them. He pressed his lips together, but said nothing in response. Merrill followed him inside.

Maps and papers bearing seals Cullen recognized as Alistair’s littered her desk. “Witcher –“

Merrill interrupted. “Cullen.”

“What?” Aveline had not seen the diminutive elf sneak in behind Cullen.

The elf smiled, “Cullen, not ‘witcher’. He’s had a rough night; you should try to be kind to him.”

Glaring from her place against the wall, Hawke moved to Merrill’s side. “Not now, Merrill, it would be best if you waited outside.”

Cullen’s eyes met Aveline’s narrowed gaze. “Please, continue, Merrill, what happened last night?”

“No, I won’t continue, not until you promise to be nice.” She nodded, her conviction transferred to a single gesture.

Rolling her eyes, Aveline sighed and agreed. “I will be nice, you have my word, Merrill.”

“I don’t believe you.” She crossed her arms in defiance. “If I tell you how Cullen won a drinking bet with the Qunari and woke with a tattoo, you’ll just yell at him. So no, I don’t think I will tell you anything, until you promise to be nice.”

The sound of Hawke’s hand slapping her forehead grabbed Merrill’s attention followed by Aveline’s loud laughter.

“Let me see their handiwork.” Aveline craned her neck to look. “Oh, that is. . .Maker that is just _awful_. You will see to that, won’t you witcher?” Aveline ticked her tongue several times. “I believe a lecture won’t be necessary, but unless you plan to endure the ridicule from those Qunari who remain in the city, you should cover that up.”

Merrill tapped Cullen’s arm. “I did it again, didn’t I? Oh, I should learn to keep silent.”

“It’s fine. We’ll go see the Keeper and I’ll ask for her help.” Cullen tried to give Merrill a smile as she hurried out of the room.

The exchange between the elf and the witcher intrigued Aveline. Her perception of the freak sent to add to Kirkwall’s troubles had lessened as he aided the city through its continued problems. “I believe I was wrong about you witcher -Cullen. I’m afraid you cannot visit the Dalish camp as I am to put you on board a ship bound for Denerim. The King’s messenger waits for you on board his ship.”

Cullen caught the mischievous glint in Hawke’s eyes at the thought of him meeting Alistair with the tattoo. “You’re enjoying this.”

She raised a hand to her chest in mock surprise. “I’m shocked you would think so, Cullen. I’m sure King Alistair will be sympathetic to this. . .predicament.”  She glanced over to Aveline and the two burst into laughter again.

Grumbling at the ceaseless teasing, deliberate steps carried him to the office door.

Aveline hadn’t finished her debriefing with the two of them and called out to Cullen. “Where do you think you’re going? I wasn’t finished.”

“I am,” he replied, reaching for the door handle, “I have to find a shitty tattoo artist.”

The guard captain hurried to the door. “Oh no, you will confront no one. You should have known better, Cullen. But I will not allow you to risk any harm to the remaining Qunari or to Kirkwall due to your lack of discretion.” She opened the door to address the city guard waiting in the hall. “Escort the Witcher to King Alistair’s ship. No detours!” Turning back to face Cullen, she patted his shoulder, “You’ll be back in a few weeks and in the meantime, I’ll send someone to request help from the Dalish Keeper.”

Cullen left with the guard, shaking his head as he left. _Alistair will be a real ass about this_ , he thought.

_____________

When a small group shares a long and intense campaign, a bond will develop. Alistair and Cullen did not agree or consider the other a friend for first few months they traveled together. Alistair proved jealous of Cullen’s skills and the closeness he shared with Solona. Cullen thought Alistair immature and unworthy to lead Ferelden in his current state. Their time in the Brecilian Forest changed their mild dislike of one other into a deeper friendship.

_The fight with the werewolves proved tougher than any of them could have imagined. Cullen’s insistence to Morrigan to learn healing magic from Wynne proved critical to their survival. A deeper fear consumed the witcher. Any of his human companions could be exposed to the mutagens of the werewolves and turn. He couldn’t let any of them face a life of lycanthropy. Leliana and Zevran stayed behind. Wynne and Morrigan could use magic barriers for protection. Morrigan’s shape shifting abilities, he believed might give her immunity. Alistair and Solona would need protection at every step._

_Revenants and darkspawn waited for them at every turn and Cullen could feel the Wardens weakening. “We should go back to the camp, get Shale and let me take Morrigan and Wynne to find the werewolves.”_

_Shaking her head, Solona disagreed. “I appreciate the concern, you fear we could become one of them, don’t you?”_

_The group talked before setting out of the possible dangers of a werewolf attack. No one knew for sure if the Warden’s darkspawn tainted blood would render him or her immune to the mutagens. Cullen could not take the chance. After countless arguments, he relented, but the presence of the Wardens in the party pushed Cullen to shadow them every step._

_Alistair tired of Cullen’s constant scrutiny as they moved through the forest. “Could you move away Cullen?  Having you breathing down my neck is a bit unsettling.”_

_“I’m not breathing down your neck Alistair, I’m a good ten feet from you.” Cullen scanned the forest and the canopy of trees looking for any sign of the wolf packs._

_“You are though; I’m capable of defending myself, Cullen. I’d rather you pay attention to Sol. As much as the idea bothers me, watch over her.”  As he finished speaking, a blur of limbs and fur dropped from the trees, tackling the Warden to the ground._

_“Alistair!” Cullen lunged forward and pulled the werewolf off him. “Morrigan, Shale, get to Solona!”_

_Three more dropped atop Cullen and Alistair cutting them off from the rest of the party. Alistair pushed at the snapping muzzle of the werewolf pinning him to the ground._

_“Fight him, Alistair!” Cullen kicked one werewolf from his person and drew his sword slashing and hacking at the two that faced off against him._

_“No. . . I thought,” Alistair struggled to move the heavy werewolf off him, “I’d ask him. . .to tea.” He was able to lift his leg and pushed the beast away. “Of course I plan to fight him!” Alistair rose to his feet only to be knocked to the ground again._

_Cullen’s second attacker dropped as he slit the beast’s chest with his sword. The witcher turned in time to see Alistair’s arm caught in the werewolf’s jaws._

_“No!” Cullen lunged. He grabbed the werewolf’s jaws and pulled them open enough for Alistair to snatch his arm away. Cullen slit the throat of the beast and tossed him to the ground. He raced to Alistair’s side. “Did he break the skin?” Culled pulled at Alistair’s arm to search for holes in the braces._

_Trying to catch his breath, Alistair shook his head. “No, I don’t think so. Maybe, I can’t tell.”_

_“Maker’s breath! Yes, or no? Answer the fucking question!” Cullen continued to pull at his arm as Solona and the others arrived._

_Shaken by the Witcher’s anger, he pulled off his gauntlets. “Cullen, I’m fine. No blood.”_

_Alistair’s confirmation did nothing to quell Cullen’s anger. “You’re far too reckless, Alistair. Go back to Eamon. If you continue to make foolish mistakes, you don’t belong out here.”_

_Solona stepped between them. “Cullen. He’s fine. Let’s finish this and get out of the forest, all right?”_

_“Cullen. It was a miscalculation on my part,” Alistair smiled, “my hero.”_

_Cullen scoffed and stalked away, “You’re an ass, Alistair.”_

Their friendship changed. Alistair and Cullen relied on one another to protect the group as best they could each helping the other whenever the need arose. Teasing and trash talking become a part of their everyday conversations and that friendship continued after the Blight.

Alistair sat at his desk shaking, his hands covering his face.

“Alistair?” Cullen couldn’t be sure if he was crying or laughing.

Removing his hands, Cullen realized Alistair’s laughter was so intense he was turning red. “Oh, I needed this today, old man.” He stood and looked over Cullen’s neck. “This is bloody brilliant. I need to give someone a medal for this.”

“So happy you’re enjoying this at my expense.” Cullen’s flat tone and sigh said quite the opposite. “You should know I was about to find a way to remove it when you summoned me. What do you need? I thought you wanted Kirkwall sorted out?”

He waived Cullen’s questions away. “You’ll head back soon. But this – I will cherish this moment, my friend.”

A soft knock and the door opened without waiting for a reply. _Solona_ , Cullen thought, _only she would enter without waiting for permission._

“Half the castle heard you cackling, my love.” She crossed towards Alistair to face Cullen. “One of you please share the joke? I’m feeling a bit-“  She paused. Solona stepped closer to Cullen. “Oh, you cannot be serious Cullen. That is hideous.”

Alistair fell back into his chair waving his hand as though it could stave off his laughter. 

“Really, Alistair?” She chided him. Turning her attention back to Cullen, she smiled. “I can remove it for you, there is a poultice to pull out the ink, but it burns and will not be pleasant."

Cullen nodded. “Thanks, Sol. I’ll take the pain to stop that,” he gestured to Alistair’s cackling fit, “from continuing until I leave.”

__________________

Solona’s poultice worked so well, by the time Cullen returned to Kirkwall, no trace of the offending tattoo remained.

The Qunari could not believe their prank disappeared and believed Cullen had a form of magic they’d never seen before.

Hawke and the others teased him for some time after he returned and Merrill was disappointed she hadn’t been able to help. Kirkwall could never stay jovial for long, in the time Cullen had been away, tensions between Knight Commander Meredith and Orsino escalated. Mages disappeared every night without explanation.

Cullen tried to join in the fun and merriment of Hawke’s crew, but the constant hum of his medallion troubled him. Anders’ absences for hours day to day and the ever-encroaching possibility of martial law in the city coupled with the sudden appearance of Yennelyn made him wonder what waited for all of them.

**Author's Note:**

> Cullen as a witcher is my strange obsession, take a look at his full story in Cullen Rutherford: A Witcher in Thedas in my other works. 
> 
> This little fun piece was suggested by Singingmom1716, check out her works for more DAI Cullen.


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